Entanglement
by CoffeeAndConjunctions
Summary: Abigail Presley had always called him a megalomaniac. He was not a good man-most of the time he was just barely civil. But he was brilliant, a wonder of intellect in a brute's body. Yes, she had formed very lasting impressions of John Harrison. She just wasn't aware of how close to the truth she'd actually come. How close to him she would come.
1. Birdman

Entanglement:

Birdman

The crinkle of the wrapping paper echoed along the silent marble walls of the lobby-it was too early for most of the workers to be arriving, though some were on their way home after most likely falling asleep at their work stations. Untangling the long stems of the fresh cut flowers from the rubber band took some maneuvering, it wouldn't do to damage the flowers when she'd gone through all the trouble of acquiring them in the first place.

"I just don't see the appeal."

Agatha was a primly dressed woman in her mid fifties-she wore tasteful jewelry and wore her hair in its natural steel grey as opposed to the expert dye jobs most women favored. Her mentor for the past three years, Agatha had been in charge of manning the front desk of the Kelvin Memorial Archives since it's inauguration some twenty off years ago. Her minimalistic style often clashed with Abigail's own eclectic collection of trinkets.

"Fresh flowers brighten everyone's day Aggie," the moniker earned her a rather pointed glare from the newly arrived woman but she continued to arrange the blossoms as if she hadn't taken note of it. "Even if all you can buy in the city are the genetically enhanced kind-the never smell quite right you know."

Tying a creme colored ribbon along the neck of the vase, tugging the bow into place, she fussed over the sunflower for another minute before accepting that it was as pleasing to the eye as it was going to be without her micromanaging every detail-she did enough of that during work hours as it was. Folding the wrapping paper before she tossed it in the bin to minimize space she inquired after Agatha's week. She had taken a few days off to resolve some custody issues she was having-since the death of her parents three years prior she had been named the sole guardian of her brother Elliot, a quiet fourteen year old boy-the state still insisted on performing schedule and random interviews and checks to make sure all was in order. She was grateful to see that they cared so much for the orphaned youth but it was more then a small annoyance to have to keep jumping hoops for them.

"-another Scientist has been brought in-engineer I think-Admiral Marcus has keep it quiet mostly but break room gossip is as effective at collecting information as a spy network."

Officially this was an Archive, unofficially and in actuality it served double duty as a research facility of some sort-her clearance wasn't high enough to warrant specifics but that much she had been made aware of seeing as it was her job to keep affair in order in the lobby. She dealt mostly with clearance and information and supply requests, it wasn't what she had pictured for herself but circumstances had left her with little choice.

"I always miss the excitement!" with a feigned huff she collapses dramatically onto her chair.

A slim brow is raised in her direction, the older woman had long since learned to take her antics in stride-when called for Abigail could be quite professional but she had her moments of childish fancy. While she did not think it was entirely appropriate in a woman of twenty-eight it was forgiven easily enough, hers was a personality that was infectious in its exuberance. Before a rebuke could come from her she noted the younger woman had righted herself and was smiling amiably but courteously at an approaching figure.

"Good morning, what can I do for you Mister?"

Hands tucked into the pockets of a long leather coat, high collared with the lingering shine of newness, the man cut an interesting figure-avian in his length and sharp angles. "Harrison, John Harrison-I've come to request supplies."

No greeting, no please, he addressed her in a clip tone with little room for her to wriggle in her usual pleasantries. While he stood but a few feet from her Abigail got the distinct impression even though he addressed her he did not actually acknowledged her presence. Wonderful, he was one of those types too involved in their own brilliance for lowly mortal receptionists. There was always a few of those walking around in this place. No wonder Agatha had mentioned the break room being abuzz with his arrival-nothing stirred the hive like a right bastard.

Without another word he slide a few pages of paper her way-which was surprising in and of itself. Furrowing her brows she lifted the papers and studied their content briefly before looking up at the man once more.

"I'm sorry Sir, I don't quite understand-"

"Is this not the place where one requests stock?"

"Well yes." her smile never faltered though his attitude was beginning to crate at her nerves, still she'd faced worse then John Harrison, "But why didn't you send it via a PADD? That's the usual procedure, especially for this sort of list-it needs to be categorized in the system so that all materials in use can be accounted for-especially the ones you've requested. After all, you never know when someone is going to be building explosives out of household items do you?"

Her little quib seemed to do it's job-it took a certain kind of person with a certain kind of knowledge to recognize the materials on his list for what they were-pieces of a puzzle which no doubt would yield a weapon, one if her theory was right would make a very big boom. His full attention was on her now and she was beginning to regret it immensely, those sharp featured arranged themselves into an unreadable mask-she felt much like an insect pinned and ready to be dissected.

"No. One does not."

Picking up his list Harrison turned his back to her and walked away in much the same way he'd arrived, quietly and quickly with long legged strides.

"Charming man-" Agatha scoffs beside her, sharp blue eyes burrowing holes into the man's back.

"Extremely-now, tell me about Nadia and Gilbert, did they really get caught in the turbo lift?"

She had all but forgotten the uppity man from this morning when she received a message from Commander Haywood, her direct supervisor, telling her that any and all request put in by John Harrison were to be executed without delay by direct order of Admiral Marcus.

"Someone went running to Mummy." A frown looked out of place in her usually smiling face, her muttering continued as she powered down her station "All I needed, an egocentric birdman to make life so much more pleasant."


	2. Communication

Entanglement:

Communication

"Elliot!"

Mornings at the Presley household had a certain rhythm to them, it hadn't taken long for the siblings to fall into order. Abigail's with drawl from Starfleet had been a crushing blow, a promising Engineer she had been set to graduate in two more years yet her parents death had ended that career path roughly three months before the Romulan ship-the Narada-had set its sights on Earth. There was no doubt in her mind that she would have perished had she still been a Cadet with the Academy-she was good but there was no guarantee she would have been assigned to the Enterprise, the only ship to survive.

No, she could mourn her decision but never regret it. If things had worked out in any other way Elliot would have lost everything.

"Elliot, are you ready? We're going to miss the tube."

She didn't bother looking back, concentrating in packing last night's leftovers in containers for the both of them. Credits were well accounted for in this household, there was not much to spare-it already took extra shifts to keep Elliot in his private school.

"Yes. Sorry Abby, I was finishing the last of my assignment."

"Couldn't finish it last night?"

"I-I feel asleep talking to Sara on the comm."

Flashing the teenager a grin from over her shoulder she shook her head, it seems he was delving into the mystery that was woman. Part of her wondered if her parents had ever gotten around to showing him the proper vids or if she'd have to do that herself. Best not to think on it at the moment.

"See to your homework before you see to Miss Sara next time, okay?"

There was little chastisement in her voice because she knew her brother went above and beyond in his studies, he had always been a mature boy and their parent's death had only served to jump start that maturity that much sooner.

"Alright."

"Okay, good. I'm off then, lunch is packed and I should be home in time for dinner. In case I'm not then there are credits in the usual drawer for supper. Be safe and call me when you come home."

Around a bite of fruit he chews out the words, "I might go over to Braxon's for dinner. Not sure yet, he mentioned it in class yesterday."

"Let me know what you decide when you call me then-ten o'clock curfew though, still a school night."

Elliot doesn't giver a proper answer just nods between bites.

* * *

"I'm afraid Elliot has finally discovered the fairer sex."

Reclining in her chair she stares at the vaulted ceiling for a moment, there hadn't been much time to exchange pleasantries with Agatha this morning, a large influx of requests had filtered through and keep them occupied for the majority of the morning hours.

"Ah yes, the wonders of male puberty. You, my dear, are in for a treat. Never had I so thoroughly considered strangling my own flesh and blood then when Mathew became a man."

Snorting may not have been the most Agatha approved reaction but she couldn't help it, the thought of petite Agatha causing any harm to her mammoth son was laughable. "I'm sure he trembled in fear. That's most certainly why the bed quaked at night."

"Charming Ms. Abigail."

Before she could respond her screen flashed with an incoming call, the computer's voice addressed her.

"Incoming call from Harrison, John."

Sighing in exasperation and sharing a look of contempt with Agatha she put on her best face and answered the call.

"Good Afternoon Mr. Harrison. How can I be of service."

Damned man wasn't even looking into the screen, instead he was tinkering away at something on his desk.

"Ms. Presley I require your presence in my work quarters."

"I'm sorry Sir, I'm afraid you've caught me at a rather inconvenient time. I was about to go on my lunch hour."

Lie, but not a complete one. It was around the time she'd normally take her hour but if it meant avoiding Harrison she could due with a slightly earlier lunch then normal.

"I do not object to you consuming food in my quarters. I shall see you in twenty minutes. That should be sufficient time to gather your meal. Harrison out."

Briefly she wondered how far she could jam one of the soldering wands down his throat before security arrived. Surely it would be long enough to teach him to some modicum of manners. No tongue at all would be almost as good as a civil one.


	3. Pride

Entanglement:

Pride

Never had a lunch tasted so satisfying as the one she'd had that today, she'd tucked herself at a corner table in the break room and made sure to spend every moment of her lunch hour _not_ in John Harrison's office. Satisfaction turned into apprehension when no message followed the original request. She'd been foolish and impulsive, not only was her own livelihood tied to this job but so was Elliot's. Pride wasn't worth having to worry about were their next meal was going to come from if Harrison decided to retaliate her own petty actions.

Damn it.

In the two months that Harrison had been present in her life the man had done very little to endear himself to anyone, least of all her whom he treated much like a computer if truth be told. Supply requests, status updates on said supply requests, it was a peculiar habit. The information was his to be accessed at any time of day from a PADD, so the conclusion could only be that he pestered her over such things simply because he could.

Bastard.

Yet, he was a well connected bastard whom she'd probably have to grovel to tomorrow morning. Gathering her things, having already said her goodbyes to Agatha, Abigail was about to power off her station when a call came through.

"Incoming call, Harrison, John."

Seems the groveling was to occur much sooner then she'd anticipated, resigned she accepted the call.

"Good Evening Mr. Harrison."

"Ms. Presley. I had been under the impression that your job description was to provide me with any assistance I should require."

Those icy blue eyes seemed all the more strange encased by her monitor, so vivid against the pale pallor of his skin. His intertwined fingers brushed against his lips as he leaned forward using his elbows for support.

"I provide assistance for the entire building Sir."

"Very well, that shall be rectified."

Just what the hell was that supposed to mean?

* * *

A/N: Greetings and salutations fellow Trekkies. I apologize for the brevity of this chapter but I believe they shall all be this length from now on-that way I can publish more often, probably more then once a day if inspiration strikes.

I would love to hear your opinions on how it is progressing.


End file.
